


Deconstructed Cream Horn

by peevee



Series: Bon Appétit [2]
Category: British Comedy RPF, The Great British Bake Off RPF
Genre: M/M, PWP, god help me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:01:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27196873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peevee/pseuds/peevee
Summary: “Ooh,Daddy,” was what he finally said, when Paul pulled off to breathe. There was a short, outraged silence. “No? Thought you might be into that sort of thing. You’re working the whole Silver Fox sort of angle -”“I think it might be time for you to stop talking now.”
Relationships: James Acaster/Paul Hollywood
Series: Bon Appétit [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1985392
Comments: 20
Kudos: 52





	Deconstructed Cream Horn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ghoulkitten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghoulkitten/gifts).



> HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ghoulkitten!!! If you ask for James Acaster getting wrecked, I shall (eventually) provide.
> 
> I almost said that I was sorry about the title, but that would be a lie.

Paul’s was closer, in the end. The sorts of hotels they ended up in during filming were fairly homogenous, but Paul usually managed to charm his way into a suite. James couldn’t charm his way out of a paper bag; apparently his room didn’t even have a television.

“This is outrageous,” he said, from the centre of Paul’s king sized bed. He starfished his arms and legs, then propped himself up on his elbows to peer at Paul as he wrestled the cork from a lovely Californian Merlot. “I can’t believe I was being treated like a pleb and I didn’t even know it!”

“You are a pleb,” said Paul. He poured two full glasses and passed one to James. “Drink this, it might improve your sense of taste.”

James accepted the glass and took a noisy slurp, then gave a theatrical thumbs up. Paul watched him, an unwilling smile hovering at his mouth. He looked good, sprawled on Paul’s bed like he belonged there.

“Good?” He tipped his glass.

“Mmm!” said James, gamely gulping more. A little bit of wine dribbled from the corner of his mouth. God, Paul wanted to _ruin_ him. He leaned forward and took the glass back, then put his own down on the bedside table.

“Hey, wait, I wasn’t finished - mph!”

“Is there an off switch somewhere around here?” said Paul against his mouth. He slid one hand up under James’ shirt. James’ eyes were wide, his mouth wet. 

“Uh,” he said, blinking. “Maybe you should feel around a bit and see?”

Paul kissed him again, pushing at James’ shoulders and sliding his tongue into his mouth. James’ hands came up immediately to clutch at Paul’s arms and tug him closer, and he made a few high pitched sounds through his nose. 

“Ooh, _Daddy_ ,” was what he finally said, when Paul pulled off to breathe. There was a short, outraged silence. “No? Thought you might be into that sort of thing. You’re working the whole Silver Fox sort of angle -”

“I think it might be time for you to stop talking now.”

James bit his lip, then looked up at him coquettishly through his eyelashes. It should have been a ridiculous look on a grown man who more closely resembled a badly drawn giraffe than some wide-eyed ingénue, and it _was_ , but…

Paul pushed his thumb over James’ lower lip. It was pink and yielding, and James’ tongue came out to flick playfully at him, then James was slithering off the bed and into a heap on the floor, his hands gripping Paul’s hips to tug him closer to the edge. 

“What was it you asked for?” said James, unzipping him and raising himself up on his knees to press his nose against Paul’s half-hard cock. “A low blow?”

“Any kind you want,” said Paul, spreading his legs a little wider to let James settle between them. “As long as you _get on with it_.”

“Pushy!” said James cheerfully, but then he was opening his mouth and breathing hot and damp against Paul’s dick over his underwear, that ridiculous tongue of his slipping around where the head was nudging out over the waistband. 

Paul leaned back on his elbows and watched as James attempted to be seductive at him. The worst part was, it was sort of working. His big, pretty eyes were wide as he opened up and visibly struggled to fit Paul into his mouth, and… well. Paul was a man of simple tastes, sometimes. 

“Very nice,” he said. He cupped the back of James’ head and held him steady.

“Mmnn!” said James. He pulled off and took a gulp of air, and then slid back down with a greedy little noise that made Paul clench his hand in James’ hair. His eyes were watering a bit, and his face had gone quite red, and Paul had to close his eyes and breathe very deeply to try and get himself under control. 

When he opened them again, it was worse. James was pulling off his cock with aching slowness, all that cheeky impudence gone from his expression. Everything was slickly wet with spit, and Paul couldn’t help putting a little bit of pressure on the back of James’ head to slide him back down. James clutched at his hip and moaned through his nose. God, Paul was going to embarrass himself if he kept this up.

“Come up here,” he rasped, hoping that James had more self-control than he did, because he couldn’t bear to push him away. James pulled off him and blinked up at him in confusion.

“You’re very good at that,” said Paul wrly, and James’ eyebrows raised. 

“Oh, really?” He paused, as if having a short internal argument with himself. “Virile, just like I said,” he said eventually. Then he pointed finger guns at Paul’s dick. “Nice.”

Paul stared at him, trying to keep his mouth flat. He probably wasn’t succeeding, by the smirk on James’ face. 

“Get your bloody clothes off, then,” he said, feeling more and more like he was losing whatever control he’d had over this situation. 

“Ooh,” said James, but he was scrambling to unbutton his trousers, so that was something. Paul stripped out of his shirt and jeans and leaned back against the headboard to watch as James hopped on one foot to try and pull a sock off. 

“This is seductive, right?” said James. He threw the sock over his shoulder with a flourish. “I can’t imagine you’ve ever felt more seduced than you do right now.”

“I’m swooning,” said Paul. “Hurry up.”

“You’re so bossy!” said James, but he scrambled back up onto the bed and into Paul’s lap, knees either side of Paul’s waist. His cock was flushed and wet at the tip, and it poked up at a perky angle. Cute. Paul gave it a little stroke with his thumb, and James yelped and squirmed in his lap.

“That’s a bit - ah! That’s a bit _forward_ of you - oh!”

“Shh,” said Paul, dragging him down for a kiss and getting a hand on his arse to pull him in. Within a couple of minutes James was gasping and grinding eagerly back against him, thighs spread wide, Paul’s cock pressed right up against his arse. It was a bit obvious which direction this was going in, but Paul gave him a questioning grope anyway. James let out a breathy _ha!_ and tried to pretend he wasn’t gagging for it, but Paul wasn’t fooled. 

“Have you got… ah… _uh!_ ” he said, as one of Paul’s fingers pressed up against him and rubbed a bit.

“Hm?” said Paul. “What was that?” He pressed a bit harder and stroked James’ cock smoothly.

“You’re a bloody bastard,” James said roughly, flopping sideways to try to reach the drawer on the bedside cabinet as Paul kept working his cock. “Now then. Lubey lubey lubey, where are you… bey?” he sing-songed.

Maybe, just maybe, stuffing a cock up his arse might finally shut him up. Paul hadn’t quite lost hope. He shoved James backwards and retrieved the little bottle of lube, then they fumbled like a couple of first-timers trying to coordinate getting James back into Paul’s lap, getting their arms and legs (and fuck, who needed legs that long anyway?) in the right places, until James was sinking down onto two of Paul’s fingers with a groan, his head tipping forward onto Paul’s shoulder.

“Ah,” he said. A glimmer of hope welled in Paul’s chest, and he rubbed firmly upwards with the pads of his fingers. James spread his knees and raised himself up, the muscles in his thighs jumping as he moved awkwardly up, then he slid back down with a shuddery moan. 

“Ah,” he said again. “Ah, that’s -”

Paul waited. Nothing more seemed forthcoming. James worked himself in a dirty grind on Paul’s fingers and nothing came out of his mouth but sweet, breathy little gasps, and well. If he was going to be such a good boy, Paul could reward him. He slid his fingers out of James and down onto his own cock, then pressed it up until the head was rubbing insistently at James’ hole.

“Come on,” he said, coaxing. James writhed a bit, but most of his weight was flopped onto Paul’s chest, and they slip-slid around for a few frustrating moments before Paul ran out of patience. 

“Right,” he said. “Off.”

James bounced against the mattress, looking startled as he was pushed off and flipped around, and then Paul was pressing one hand between his shoulder blades, knocking his spread knees apart and pushing into him.

“Mrrrmphfuck,” James said, face mashed into the pillow. He was unbelievably tight; Paul gritted his teeth together so that he wouldn’t make whatever embarrassing noise was fighting to get out of him. Luckily, James didn’t seem like he would care much. His mouth was opening and closing like a landed fish, and his face was an alarming shade of pink. 

“Christ,” he said thickly. “That’s… you’re -”

God, he was lovely when he was speechless. Paul hauled his hips up and fucked him to keep him like that, leaning close over his back and grinding in deep when it looked like James might say something irritating, or just anything at all. 

“I,” he said. “I’m, _uh_ -”

Paul slid two fingers into his mouth, and James made a startled sound out of his nose. One of his hands slinked down under his belly, and Paul felt the way he was already starting to clench and shudder. 

“Really?” he said, letting his tone go a bit mocking. “Doesn’t take much, does it?”

“Nngff,” James said around his fingers. He pulled off them and swallowed hard, then twisted around awkwardly so he could look up at Paul. 

“Please,” he said, and it was so unexpected, to have him earnestly _begging_. That smart mouth, and all he could say was _please_. Fuck. Paul hauled them both up so that he was on his knees, James splayed across his lap. Kissed him, stroked him and fucked him roughly until James was coming all over his hand, moaning and squirming in his lap and there was absolutely no chance that Paul was going to be able to hold himself back. He shoved himself in deep and groaned his orgasm against James’ back.

There was a long, sticky silence, punctuated with heavy breathing. 

“Mm,” said Paul. His knees were beginning to ache, but he couldn’t make himself let go. The back of James’ neck still smelled like warm spices.

“Well then,” said James eventually. “Bit better than a handshake in the end, eh?”

Paul shoved him face-first into the blankets, and didn’t feel even a little bit bad about it.


End file.
